What I Love
by Kachanski
Summary: Ikkaku and Yumichika think of all the things they love. Including each other. Slight Yaoi
1. Ikkaku

**Hello yet again! Well although this isnt my first YumichikaxIkkaku fiction, it is my first Yaoi one...so please be kind, but constructive, and if you dont like that sort of thing then the door is that way. *points away***

**This was inspired by a rather funny picture I found on the internet, "You know it's true" with a Seme arrow to Yumichika (who looks very smug) and an Uke arrow to Ikkaku (who looks rather angry).**

**This is dedicated to redbull07! who, even though she has never watched Bleach at all, sat down and read this for me! Thank you very much!!**

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There were many things Ikkaku loved. He loved to fight. He loved the pure adrenaline rush that came from the clash of swords and the fear of being cut. Not that it frightened him that much.

Sake, was another love of his. He could never resist the tempting call of the drink, especially after sparring, when it would sooth his parched throat. It always, much to his disappointment, disappeared far too quickly though, and always at someone else's hands.

He also loved his squad. Even Yachiru (well, most of the time). He loved sparring with everyone in the squad, young and old, novice or veteran. He loved sitting and drinking with his captain and Yumichika long into the night; especially when Yumichika got drunk. The sight of a ruffled and completely pissed Yumichika was one of the funniest sights he had ever witnessed, and it was worth it, even if he would regret it in the morning.

But most of all he loved Yumichika. He loved the way that the smaller shinigami would take care of all the technical details, leaving Ikkaku free to do what he really enjoyed: fighting.

He loved the way Yumichika smiled, and the different smiles that graced the dark haired man's lips. Warm, the thin smile of irritation, the smug, condescending smile he wore when talking to people he believed to be below him, every one of them. He especially loved Yumichika's smile when he was fighting, the smile of pure and unrestrained joy, although the serious expression he got, the glint of concentration as he clashed blades with a particularly challenging opponent was pretty good too. For that matter, all Yumichika's expressions bought a little smile to Ikkaku's lips.

He loved the way that Yumichika desperately tried to hide the true form of his Zanpaktou from everyone. It hadn't taken long for Ikkaku to work out that there was something odd about Yumichika's Zanpaktou. The captain might be terrible at sensing reiatsu, but that didn't mean Ikkaku was, and he had soon noticed that occasionally Yumichika's reiatsu would change, for instance that time Ichigo and his friends had invaded, and Yumichika had gone off to fight Hisagi. Ikkaku never mentioned it though, and carried on pretending that he didn't know. He knew without a doubt that it would crush the proud man terribly if he knew that Ikkaku had been humouring him.

He loved the way that Yumichika's talented tongue, not only good for sarcastic remarks and insults, would reduce him to a lump of trembling jelly under its ministrations, licking every part of his body, lingering in all the right places until Ikkaku would growl and demand that he stop playing with him like some toy.

He loved that Yumichika always made it perfectly clear that he would never, _ever,_ bottom, and the one time Ikkaku had tried to ignore this rule Yumichika had tied him to the bed and taken his revenge in the most cruel and pleasurable way. Ikkaku had never known what could be achieved by those feathers attached to Yumichika's face before that night. Although…he would always wake up the next morning and cringe in shame that he, the powerful and ultimately manly third seat of the strongest squad in the whole of the Gotei 13, was the submissive one in the relationship. But then he only had to look at his pretty-boy's peaceful, beautiful face beside him to forget it all.

He loved how the dark haired man would kneel above him, trembling with need, all dignity and poise forgotten; his hair rumpled by Ikkaku's wandering hands, his body covered in sweat. He loved how he was the only person who had the privilege of seeing Yumichika like that, of seeing something more than just arrogance and superiority in his lover's large eyes.

He loved the fact that Yumichika would do everything he told him to in public; follow him around like an obedient dog. He loved the knowledge that Yumichika needed Ikkaku as much, if not more than Ikkaku needed him, and that if Ikkaku wanted to, he could abuse the subtle power he had over the other and break him. He never would though; he knew he wouldn't be able to bear the hurt in his dark haired lover's expressive eyes, however much he acted like he didn't care.

He loved that Yumichika didn't laugh at his bald head. He didn't really mind Yachiru making fun of it; she was after all, just a kid. The constant jibes from others though, got on his nerves. Especially novices who would join the squad and think that because the vice captain called him 'Cue Ball' it's all right for them to do so as well. They always regretted it later. Ikkaku made sure of that. Yumichika, on the other hand...he would run his hand lovingly over Ikkaku's bare head when they were alone, and comment, in that smooth, calm voice of his that he would be very sad if he were to discover that Ikkaku had grown his hair. Ikkaku would always slap his hand away and growl something, but he liked it really.

He really, really loved Yumichika's hair. It was so soft and silky and he could never resist running his calloused hands through it, much to his lover's irritation. In comparison to his hands Yumichika's were like the softest, highest quality silk, despite many hours of training, and more years of fighting he had not a callous anywhere. His skin too, was wonderfully soft and always clean. Yumichika had on many occasions complained about Ikkaku using him as a blanket in his sleep, or a pillow, but Ikkaku had always dismissed Yumichika's complaints, if he really didn't like it that much then he would do something about it, but he didn't, so obviously it wasn't that bad. So went Ikkaku's reasoning. For a reason Ikkaku couldn't quite explain, Yumichika would always frown and kick him when he voiced this reasoning, but, he supposed, Yumichika had always been a sore loser.

Yes. There were many things Ikkaku loved in life, more things than he could voice sensibly. But always at the forefront in this list was his beautiful, vain, narcissistic, utterly wonderful Yumichika, and he always would be.

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**This is a two parter, so the next part will be up soon. ^^ As always the Review button needs your attention. Reviews make me smile like a maniac, and the more there are the bigger my head grows, so lets see if we can't get it so I can't fit through the door!**


	2. Yumichika

**Well, heres part two! Im sorry it took so long to put up for all you who waited for it, I know that I hate it when people leave it for _ages_ to post, but I couldnt get it to sound right. It was a lot harder to write.**

**Thank you to everyone who reviewed! It was really uplifting to see that people liked it, especially (Squee!!) DelMarch, who's stories I love! and who corrected my bad habit of switching between past and present tense. I hope you all like this one as much.**

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Yumichika, as anyone who knew him even a little was well aware of, loved anything beautiful. However, possessing very strong views on the subject meant that quite a few things in life fell short of his expectations. There were some things however that he took great pleasure in.

He loved the squad. He loved the comforting noise of arguments and sparring, the yelps and growls which accompanied almost any interaction between Ikkaku and Yachiru. He loved sitting and drinking with his friends, except when Ikkaku got him drunk, which he would be willing to swear on his left arm that Ikkaku would do on purpose, just to laugh at him when he did something foolish in front of the captain.

But more than that Yumichika loved Ikkaku. He loved the way the bald shinigami would protest and splutter when he heard the rumours circulating the squad about their relationship, and then furiously seek out the source of the rumours and 'see to them'. He loved the way people assumed that, as he was the effeminate one, he would be the submissive one too, and he loved the fact that they were all completely wrong.

He loved Ikkaku's loyalty, something that he himself did not possess a wealth of, and found difficult to give out. He loved Ikkaku's undying loyalty to his captain, and to his squad and beliefs, and of course Ikkaku's undying loyalty to him.

He loved Ikkaku's sword, which was everything his wasn't. He loved the smooth feel of the steel and the feel of the well worn wood when it was released. He loved the pride Ikkaku took in his weapon, and that he was one of only two people who officially knew of Ikkaku's Bankai. At the same time it hurt him. He knew that, although Ikkaku confided an important secret to him, he would never be able to confide his secret in return, and he was jealous that Ikkaku's sword was so perfect, and so beautiful while his was his greatest shame, something which he had to hide from everyone, to the point that one day, he knew, it would kill him.

He loved how Ikkaku would take all the hardest fights, all the time. He loved how Ikkaku would grumble and growl and insist that it was because he was the higher seat, and it was first come first served, so Yumichika needed to move faster if he wanted a decent fight next time, but he knew that wasnt the real reason. He saw it sometimes, when he came back rumpled or wounded. The anger and not quite worry, but something close, in Ikkaku's eyes; that he might have lost him, and that he had allowed himself to be hurt.

He loved the way Ikkaku fought. It was a beautiful sight. He loved the way the supple and strong body would twist and turn, muscles straining and flexing as they were worked. He loved the way the fighter would bare his teeth in that trademark grin of his, and furrow his brows, even though he wasn't angry and then throw himself wholeheartedly into the battle, forgetting everything except what was right in front of him.

He loved the fact that Ikkaku, normally so aggressive and authoritative, would lie beneath him, panting and flushed, and submit to him utterly. He loved the way his lover's strong hands would wander over his body, worshipping every inch of it, the way those same hands would stroke and caress his hair until it was tangled and disordered, and then brush it out later. He loved the scars which covered Ikkaku's body, crisscrossing lines which told of his strength and will to live, and the sounds Ikkaku made when he traced them with his fingers and tongue.

He loved Ikkaku's kisses, especially those rare, utterly coveted kisses, full of love and tenderness which Ikkaku only rarely awarded. That didn't mean, however, that he didn't also love the fiery, impatient demanding kisses which were far more common and usually ended with rumpled uniforms and tangled hair (well, at leat on his part), but the special kisses were…well…special. They came from something that Ikkaku was well known for having very little of: gentleness and patience, and told Yumichika without a doubt that Ikkaku loved him, instantly dispersing all his worries, leaving only Ikkaku and that warm, content feeling only the powerful fighter could create.

He loved Ikkaku's taste; the slightly sharp, vinegary taste of sake which would linger in that warm mouth along with the earthy taste which was distinctly Ikkaku. He loved the taste of his skin and his sweat and could never get enough of it; sampling it like some rare delicacy to the point that Ikkaku would snarl and demand that Yumichika get on with it. Yumichika would only smirk against his skin, drawing a very beautiful reaction from the larger man.

He loved, although he would never admit it, the way that Ikkaku would wrap his arms around him in his sleep and hold him close, pulling the smaller man on top of him or resting his head on Yumichika's stomach and chest. He loved the twisted logic that Ikkaku employed to placate him after suffering the indignity of being used as a human blanket, and he loved that the twisted logic was correct, that Ikkaku knew him so well as to see past his insults and complaints. He loved the knowing smile which always settled on the bald mans face when Yumichika denied it and kicked him, promising the most unpleasant things if it were to ever happen again.

He really, really loved that Ikkaku took him as he was, accepted all his oddities as well as the good and would always manage to bring out the best in him. He loved that he could work himself into an almost frenzy of self pity and loathing, first of all over his hair, which had been rather unceremoniously cut short by the scything claws of a hollow, and secondly, and at irregular intervals afterwards, over the large and in his opinion _ugly_ scar on his stomach, a souvenir of partial disembowelment at the hands of another hollow, but that Ikkaku would always knock it all away, more often than not literally, leaving him sprawled on the floor. Ikkaku had never been subtle. Another thing Yumichika loved about him.

It was a well known fact that Yumichika was not an easy person to please, and there were few things in the world which he loved on more than a superficial level. But one thing that he loved unconditionally and could never hold any displeasure over was his brash, coarse, short tempered, wonderful Ikkaku, and that would never change.

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**As always, the review button would love some attention, as would I! ^^**


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